Manual
by A for Anarchy
Summary: Number 24 in my one-word prompt series. AU Tywin/Sansa. Rated M for language and mature content. Tywin is sleeping over at Sansa's flat; the only probably is having to share a smaller bed.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own _A Song of Ice and Fire_. It belongs to GRRM.

**Author's Note**: Number 24 in my one-word prompt series. AU Tywin/Sansa, established relationship. Warnings include restless sleep, getting kicked out of bed, and retaliating with oral sex. Funny story, this happened because my dear friend, themysteryvanishing, made me a GoT pillow, which you will see below. We affectionately call it 'Tywin.' I tried to sleep with Tywin the day I received him, but ended up kicking him out of the bed (probably during my REM cycle). What followed was this little plot bunny that would not leave me alone. So, I dedicate and gift this to themysteryvanishing because she helps fuel my creative process!

* * *

There were times that Tywin forgot that he had such a young lover. Sansa could be very mature for her age, something that he greatly appreciated, but for all her maturity, she was inexperienced in some of the subtle nuances of a relationship.

For instance, she had not yet grasped the concept of sharing a bed, which was why Tywin found himself on the floor, staring up at her peacefully sleeping face.

They were at her flat, meaning that her bed was much smaller than the one occupying _his_ bedroom. Normally, Sansa was not a restless sleeper, but tonight she had seen fit to kick him out of the bed (quite literally), so that she could spread out across it in its entirety. The fall had put him in a foul temper that improved only slightly when he saw that Sansa had no knowledge of her transgression, sleeping through the noise of his body smacking against the wooden floor.

Gentlemanly protocol dictated that he simply scoot her over and resume his place in the bed, but Tywin did not feel obliged to follow that particular manual when his dignity was assaulted thusly. He could simply give up on sleep for the night as a bad job well done, leaving her to wake up in an empty bed. A small, snidely cruel part of Tywin encouraged him to do just that, letting the girl know precisely what she meant to him, what she was worth. That part of him was overruled by the others, who wanted him to climb back up on the bed and punish her in the most delightfully lascivious ways.

Decision made, Tywin eased onto the bed, not wanting Sansa to wake just yet. He pulled her covers down, watching her shiver slightly as the cooler air drifted over her naked form. Her pale skin glowed in the moonlight, making her look so unearthly that Tywin was forced to skim his fingers over her to confirm her reality. For all her otherworldliness, she was still real, a solid, warm, presence under his fingers.

He kept his touch light, trailing his fingertips all over her body while she squirmed, restless, yet unaware.

Sansa always responded beautifully to his touch, she would come alive as he plucked at her, begging quietly for more. She was quiet in her passion, no shrieks or wails left her, even during the strongest of orgasms. But, she would pant into his skin, his mouth, and her hands would tighten, her nails digging in as she trembled against him in ecstasy. If someone were to observe their coupling, they might be left with the impression that sex was a dull, perfunctory act, but Tywin reveled in every soft sigh and moan because they were all for him.

No one else had ever seen the truth of Sansa Stark, and no one except him ever would.

He often felt like a dragon, hoarding away his treasure instead of displaying it proudly, and despite the cruelty within him that clamored for her destruction (lest she destroy him first), he would keep Sansa and never share her. Because she looked beautiful in moonlight, and far too innocent for a man like him. Because even in her sleep, she knew his touch and welcomed it.

Gently, Tywin turned her until she lay on her back; she murmured sleepily in protest, but quieted when he brushed his fingers across her lips.

His lips followed his fingers, and he laid a soft kiss on her mouth before moving down her body. He didn't linger in one spot for too long, fearing that continuous pressure would rouse her, but he lightly licked and sucked at her nipples until they were stiff, only then did he move on. His hands skated over her ribs, a move which had her straining away from him (he'd once tickled her until she was near tears, and she had vowed retaliation at some point in the future).

Tywin cupped her hips, drawing circles in her skin with his thumbs while he eased his shoulders between her thighs, spreading her open until he could see her cunt in the dim light. At his request, Sansa kept her red curls. Tywin liked the way they crinkled against his hand as he worked her to orgasm with his fingers; he also enjoyed the way their fiery color created such a pretty contrast with her snowy skin.

Sansa was fire and ice, and she burned against him with an intensity that he had never known before. She could easily consume him if he wasn't careful.

Tywin slid his hands to the insides of her thighs, using his thumbs to part the folds of her cunt. She shuddered in response, prompting him to drag his tongue up her labia. A soft whimper drifted towards him, so he licked her again before setting his mouth to her clit.

At first, he sucked at it lightly, denying her the pressure that he knew she craved. Sansa's thighs trembled around his head, her hips thrust up, searching for greater contact, and he could hear her panting quietly. But, despite the sensations wracking her body, she slept on.

Bolder now, Tywin circled her clit with the tip of his tongue, stopping every few circuits to suckle at her. The combination had her writhing, but he knew it wouldn't be enough to make her come; it never was. His succulent girl like a bit of pain with her pleasure, liked the sharp edge of his teeth raking over her nipples, her clit, and she would groan for him with every hard thrust of his cock up against her cervix.

But, tonight he would deny her the torment that she begged for, and only with the gentlest of touches would he bring her over. To that end, he introduced one slender finger to her entrance, slipping it in with ease through her wetness. Tywin began to rock his finger in and out of her slowly, relishing the way the slick walls of her cunt gripped him. Even in her slumber, Sansa was determined to find her peak, and one finger would not satisfy her for long.

He withdrew his finger entirely, taking a moment to savor the taste of her essence, and then, he rose up on his arms to take in her flushing and quivering form. Sansa's lip were parted, her panting breaths coming faster now; her hands clenched and unclenched in the sheets while her hips moved with restless, desperate, motions. Her unconscious _need_ gnawed at him, and in that moment, Tywin knew that he could never deny her what she ached for.

He fell back to her eager cunt, this time thrusting into her with two fingers. He twisted them inside her, rubbing harshly against that spongy spot within, and her hips shot up sharply. Tywin pressed her back down, reattaching himself to her needy clit, lavishing it with light nips and rakes of his teeth. Sansa would wake any moment, and he wanted her broken with pleasure before then.

Tywin halted the thrusting motions of his fingers, switching to raking the tips of his fingers back and forth across that same spot. As he suckled at her clit, the walls of her cunt spasmed around his fingers, and he knew that all she needed to tip over the edge was one last hard thrust of his fingers, which he gave her gladly, scraping his teeth over her clit as he did.

Sansa fell apart, shaking as the tremors of her orgasm washed over her, stealing her breath away as they did. Tywin brought her down gradually, stroking his fingers over her folds until her trembling lessened. He laid his head on her thigh, breathing in the scent of her body's release. His arousal tugged at him for alleviation, but he willed it away, lacking the desire to take himself in hand or rut against her for relief.

Fingers brushed across his forehead, and he looked up to see Sansa staring down at him, a smile dancing in her eyes and dragging at her lips, "What was that for?"

He hummed into her skin, the sensation made her giggle, "Punishment, I suppose."

An incredulous laugh escaped her, "That certainly didn't _feel_ like punishment, and what did I do to deserve it anyway?"

Tywin crawled up her body, dragging the covers behind him. He fell to his side and pulled her against him, "You, little madam, need to learn how to share your bed. Should I wake up on your floor again, I'll take you to the edge over and over, and then leave you wanting."

He felt her skin heat slightly as a flush crept over her, "Oh, gods, I'm sorry! I've been meaning to get a bigger bed, but I haven't had a chance!"

"No matter," he rasped out, sleep overtaking him once again, "we'll see to it in the morning. Now, sleep, and do try to share this time." She nodded, giggling quietly into his chest. Silence fell as their breathing evened out, and they drifted off into sleep.


End file.
